Monday Morning Update

It's been a busy weekend of coordinating. 

Dad's 24-hour coverage at home has been organized, with only a few gaps. 

I have a good understanding, I believe, of all bills and such. 

I'm working on getting in touch with doctors, etc. 

The buried lead: Mom's okay. 

Define okay? I got to see her. She was miles better in appearance and spirits than when I left her in the ER early Saturday morning. Her pain is being managed. The ICU staff is excellent and careful and attending to her every need. 

She was able to FaceTime with dad. 

What else? The burning questions - what are her physical limitations? what might she regain? How does the future look? 

I know better than to allow us to get ahead of ourselves, so here's what we DO know, at this very moment: 

Her breathing tube was removed and she's breathing fine on her own. She does have some added oxygen (nose tubes, yay!), but all of that is stable. She is not sedated.

They are keeping her blood pressure HIGH, to increase blood flow to the spine, so that's being carefully monitored in the ICU. 

On Sunday morning, the PT crew came in, and according to mom, she was able to either push or kick against their hands with her leg. I was shocked to hear this. She said she can't FEEL her legs, but she was able to move one? Astounding. 

While I was there to visit, her legs moved, unbeknownst to her. I brought it to her attention, and asked her to move one of them on purpose - and there WAS movement.

She's able to move her arms freely. Her hands are very swollen, from just general nerves/injury and/or medications/fluids onboard. It is unclear her ability to grasp or feel with her hands at this point, but I didn't press to determine any of that, given their current state. 

Yesterday her brother, Audrey and I were able to visit with her. She is 100% cogent. She is even gaining a bit of memory of what happened Saturday morning ... bits anyway. She remembers standing and tripping over the blanket that was in her lap when it fell to the floor. I have yet to be at the house to recreate the scene in my mind, but a picture is becoming clearer. Not that it matters, much.

Yesterday Ian's mother, Carol, came over anyway, and we ate the food I had ordered and admired the flowers. Then she and Ezra went over to be with my dad while Audrey and I went to the city. It was a blessing to have the company, and I was finally able to eat something. 

Today: there is more coordination to be done. More boxes to check, things to confirm, things to schedule. Ezra took the day off of school to "hold down the Ranch" (their home) while I work to coordinate more things from home. Mom has visitors scheduled for today, for which I'm sure she will be grateful. The nurse said they would be putting her in The Chair later today - it's a stretcher chair, and I am very familiar with it. I have a horrible photo of Ian in that same chair, but it's necessary for blood flow and healing for patients to be upright for some time during the day. It will be good for her, even though it may cause additional pain/discomfort. 

She's not eating yet - she will have to be "checked off" to do that by the Speech/OT folks and the doctor. But she's not hungry, either, so she's not stressing the not eating thing. 

I would say her spirits are average; she's not wallowing, but she's not cheerful. She did have good conversation with all of us, covering non-serious topics of the past, present and future. I will say that at some point in the conversation, she noted that she was wearing The Cone of Shame 😆.

She is able to receive guests. She is not sedated, but she is on some pain medication. The nurse said they like to keep patients awake for most of the day when possible, so if anyone wants to visit, please let me know and I will be sure you have the information needed. 

How am I? I've had my pity party, my bouts of sadness, and now I'm in caregiver mode. It was very good to see her yesterday and to have a better picture of her in my mind than I had in the ER. I am very, very busy, coordinating and such, and that's probably a good thing. We have no idea what the future holds, but we do know some of the decisions that will need to be made, and none of them are pleasant. 

If you've made it this far, here's your reward: a mother's day selfie: 

I don't think her nose is broken;
the mark is from her glasses.